She's Not You!*

Dearest Love,

I always leave your house feeling all mushy and quivery. I simply never wish to cheapen our love by exploiting it so crudely on the blog. Madge will come and go but you are for ever. (Dear Madonna, this is all just to massage Antipo's fragile ego. Please forgive me, you've been in my life since 1983, don't leave me now or I shall simply expire from a crashed & crumbled cardiac organ. Sxxx)

NMTR from this end either, unless you count the fact that James left me in a red haze of anger yesterday morning when he went to catch the bus to school. His birthday is in October. He may not reach it. Honestly, Mr Mac and I are ready to cut him loose. Perhaps we should send him to your house for some short sharp shock treatment. Or maybe I'll just send him to the Bastille and leave him to rot. (Dear James, I would never do that. But you don't know that so shape up or ship out! Mumxxx)

Today I have gone out for a walk in the deliciously warm sunshine and been and done a spot of shopping in Aldi. My God, the glamour is never-ending. Still, could have been Lidl. How would I have handled that? Anyway, I now have the entire afternoon free (if I ignore the ironing). I intend to make a salami sanga and either sit back and watch some trashy tv or sit on the balcony or both. Decisions, decisions! Couldn't you come and join me?

With mucho love and molto besos,

MM
xxxxxx

*This title only really works if you know Madonna's Hard Candy album. Nick it off Mr Grumpy-but-Handsome. He's bought a copy, hasn't he?